The Road to Hell
by JediC8H10N4O2
Summary: Oneshot, AU. Everyone always says the road to hell is paved with good intentions. And that's what Dumbledore did. He only wanted what was best for the wizarding world, and knew that sometimes sacrifices needed to be made. He was just unwilling to admit where the road he paved was going.


Oneshot, AU

Don't own, otherwise the Harry Potter stories would be different.

* * *

The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. And it was good that prompted Dumbledore to do what he did. Good for the people of the wizarding world. Voldemort was a threat, and Dumbledore _knew_ that he had done something dark. He came back far too powerful, completely different from the young man who graduated from Hogwarts. And blood was powerful, and the prophecy was a godsend, so of course Dumbledore protected the one who might save the world. And even if his home life wasn't the best (and really Mrs. Figg had clearly spent too much time with only her cats to come up with the stories she did) it was for the Greater Good, to protect the world. It wasn't too much to ask, just ten years of his life in a world he didn't belong where he was grudgingly kept. He would be allowed to return, and in the end he could live for at least a century, so really ten years wasn't that much. Ask any wizard over seventy, they'll tell you the same.

And if he didn't understand at first, well, give him time. Soon Harry would realize that ten years is really only a flash. He would understand that ten years of no privilege for one in exchange for peace for all was the best. Good of the many out weigh the good of the few. Harry would understand that. He would. (Mrs. Figg had asked for someone else, someone with magic, to be placed on the street to watch Harry, but she was just over-reacting. It was just a phase. Harry was a good kid, he had to be.)

When Harry came to Hogwarts, Dumbledore was happy. Harry had paid his debt, he could rejoin the world, and the Greater Good had been saved. (Except for the presence he felt from his defense professor). Harry was a Ravenclaw, taking after his mother, dedicated to his studies. (He ignored the talk of Harry's eyes, filtering it out as unimportant. Of course people would talk of his green eyes, so like his mother. He never heard the whispers of how blank they were.) He was a quiet boy, not loud or brash. He was a model student. (Good thing, otherwise he and Ms. Granger may have been seriously injured on Halloween. And Ms. Granger would be good for him. Dumbledore had gotten quite good at ignoring what he didn't want to see.) The whole thing at the end of the year was a shame, but Voldemort was alive, and he didn't know exactly what Voldemort had done to survive death. So yes, it was upsetting to have to inform his friends about their imminent deaths, but they had lived for years, and now Dumbledore had some idea of what Voldemort had done. (He ignored his dropping stomach when he use legimency to peer into Harry's mind. A blank place, his mind. Good defense, he might need that. Clearly he was linked in someway to Voldemort, so any advantage he had was a benefit to the Greater Good, a way to ensure his continued existence.) Harry Potter was doing well, and showed no signs of the childhood Mrs. Figg had once claimed he lived.

Year two came, and Harry continued his education, soaking up knowledge like a quintessential Ravenclaw. His parents would have been proud, albeit James might be upset his son wasn't a Gryffindor or a prankster. He had a few friends he talked to in all the houses in his year. Neville, Hermione, Seamus and Dean from Gryffindor, Justin, Hannah and Susan from Hufflepuff. Theodore, Blaise, Millicent, Daphne, even Draco Malfoy was seen to exchange pleasantries with him. And he got on well with his house mates, even if he spent a lot of his time alone. (He ignored the wary look in Hermione's eyes as she tracked Harry's movement. He ignored how she avoided him unless absolutely necessary). He was not extremely popular, but he wasn't disliked. He also befriended anyone, regardless of their birth. He was an excellent Ravenclaw, and even though he wasn't a Gryffindor, he was still willing to risk his life for others. (He ignored the chamber of secrets. Mrs. Norris had been petrified, but that was the end of it. One attack. He ignored the fact that Harry was often missing from meals. After all, Dumbledore didn't make all of them either. He ignored the rumors spreading about how Harry knew Dark spells, spoke to snakes. After all, everyone knew not to put any stock in the rumor mill at Hogwarts. They were never right. Honestly, Hagrid raising werewolf cubs? Sometimes Dumbledore wished the Greater Good was better educated. They could be idiots. But Harry, Harry was breaking down barriers and preparing the world for the integration Dumbledore knew the world needed. He was just the person. Important, famous, and unbiased. (Sad thing when Crabbe and Goyle went missing. But really, going out to the Forbidden Forest after being warned against it? Doesn't make them very smart). Yes, Harry was the perfect person to unite the world, a worthy successor to Dumbledore. Probably better, as he wasn't a prodigy like Dumbledore, and so did not have the pride. (He ignored the talk of condescension, of his disdain for classes. Just Professor Snape's bias, and Professor McGonagall's bitterness at not having Harry as a lion. He never did listen to Professor Flitwick and his concerns. After all, it's not like Harry hated anyone). Losing Lockheart was problematic, and he wondered where the professor had gone, but really, everyone was better off. (He had long ago learned to ignore the wards and their constant complaint of 'evil is here, evil is here'. After all, that was how it responded to those marked by Voldemort, and Professor Snape had been one. The fact that the wards were screaming didn't phase him).

Third year, and it became clear that Harry had his father's charisma, his mother's brain, a strong curiosity, and good friends. (Dumbledore didn't hear the conversations he had, or the whispers of a new power, a new way of life. Everyone knew that everything should stay the same, minus the prejudice. After all, hadn't it always worked? Harry would make that dream a reality. Dumbledore had made certain of that). Harry mentored a Slytherin, a Gryffindor, two Ravenclaws, and Ernie in different subjects. (He ignored the whispers of the portraits, the wards, as they continually spoke of honey words, of political intrigue, of a Not Slytherin being very Slytherin). Harry would be ready to face Voldemort and win, whenever that happened. After all, Harry would want to protect this world, his home. He would want to defend it like his parents had. (He never listened when Remus would say that Harry would not listen to tales of his parents.) Dumbledore spent his time watching over the students, as a normal year progressed. (It was a shame about Hagrid's friend Aragog, and the sudden loss of so many animals in the Forest. The centaurs must be hungry).

Year four, and Dumbledore became a little concerned. He hadn't heard from Voldemort. After that first year, Dumbledore believed that Voldemort would try and come back, angry that his defeater lived a normal life while he lived half one. But there was nothing. (Well, the people he hired to watch that area in Albania said that there was something there, but that wasn't Britain). He split his year between his school and government duties, and researching what might be keeping Voldemort away. Had his time in Quirrel used up all the ambient power he had gained over the years? Maybe Harry had burned it all away. Dumbledore was too busy to notice the machinations Mr. Malfoy made to try and claim the Black inheritance for his son. (After all, what kind of a Death Eater would leave all his money to Harry?) And it was such a shame that Mrs. Figg decided to move to South Africa. But she did deserve a vacation for watching Harry all those years, and she finally had stopped spouting those strange stories. Harry would never hurt someone. In fact, Dumbledore took the summer off to delve deep into his research on Voldemort and possible ways he saved himself from death. After all, Harry was a Ravenclaw. He never got into trouble.

Year five began, and Dumbledore had no answer. Not to what Voldemort had done. He was annoyed that Fudge had decided to take a personal interest in how he ran his school. After all, the death of a cat as a prank and a teacher running away could hardly be classed as problems. It isn't like Dumbledore told Fudge the truth of those events. And Fudge's pick for a defense teacher was absolute rubbish. Dumbledore heard the student body whispering, of how angry they were that they weren't allowed to learn spells that might save them, that they would be tested on. (Surprising, the whispers of a solution, of this being proof of a flawed system, never made it to his ears. At this point, all teachers knew that any bad word against Harry Potter would be ignored. And a few teachers even began to see his point.) Of course he was devastated to hear that she was found dead in her sleep. A very sad day. (And he ignored the looks the students gave to the Ravenclaw table as unimportant.) But he had his school back. Fudge had decided not to replace her. (The fact that Fudge now no longer wanted to come near Hogwarts was just a benefit. Not a symptom of a growing plague.)

Sixth year began after a boring summer, and Dumbledore once again turned his thoughts to Voldemort. He had thought that young Harry (who wasn't very young anymore) would have faced him more than once. (He heard whispers of the Lord Black, pulling strings, whispering sweet words to those who would listen, but none of his were listening, so it wasn't important.) He was able to pass some laws that never before would have passed. It seemed that young Malfoy, who was responsible for his family's seat after the unfortunate passing of his father, had learned about tolerance at Hogwarts. Many of the other young Heads of Families appeared to have learned the same. (Dumbledore barely noticed that every two months, someone who was unashamedly pureblood died.) Maybe Harry wouldn't be needed, or would have an easier time integrating the world. (He didn't notice that muggleborns were fading back into muggle society, and he never did see that they were all going into politics.)

Seventh year, Dumbledore made Harry the head boy, despite the fact that Flitwick had not even presented him as a prospect. No one argued except for Snape and McGonagall, but again that's what he expected. (He was surprised that Ms. Granger turned down the Head Girl position. But alas, childhood goals do not always last.) It was half way through the year that Dumbledore decided to check on the Dursleys. After all, he still had to take down the wards around the house now a wizard wasn't living there. He needn't have bothered. (Apparently the last family to live at the house had moved at the end of the summer. The wards had collapsed.) It was odd that all his trinkets were acting as if they were active, but perhaps that just meant the protection was still on Harry despite the lack of wards at his childhood home.

With pride, Dumbledore watched as Harry and his yearmates graduated Hogwarts. He may not know how Voldemort was keeping himself alive, but his hired men said that Albania was free of any shades now. There were no active Death Eaters, Fudge had been brought down by his corruption. (And the young Malfoy working with the Lord Black.) Best not look a gift horse in the mouth. And Dumbledore focused on Hogwarts, believing that Harry would take care of the politics.

Of course, five years later, Dumbledore heard of the most appalling law being passed. Dark magics, no longer dark? Only needing to get a license to learn? He went to his friends in the government, and heard the stories he had never been willing to listen to. The Wizengamot was full to the brim of young students, just out of Hogwarts. They were discussing adding a second level of bureaucracy, an elected body with representatives from all species, all over Britain. They were talking of coming out to the muggles.

This was not acceptable. Not at all. After all, the only problem with the government in the Voldemort Insurrection (and when did people stop fearing his name? When did it become an Insurrection?) was that idea of blood purity and blood traitors. Nothing else. And yet, the government was changing from within. And there was nothing his friends could do, as the younger Wizengamot members supported each other, and outnumbered all other factions. Dumbledore looked at the Wizengamot and realized that many of them had gone to Hogwarts with Harry.

And there was his solution. Harry. He hadn't actually had a conversation with him for longer than a few minutes, and the last one was during his seventh year, but Harry would see reason. He was a logical Ravenclaw, he'd see that the destruction of the world was a bad thing. And all he'd have to do was mention that Voldemort might come back and that this might be what he'd need to try and make wizarding Britain fall. He wouldn't want anyone to have a home life like he had.

And so Dumbledore called on Harry Potter, a researcher in the Department of Mysteries. He was surprised that the address was four Privet drive, but reassured himself that Harry had probably bought it for his relatives, when they decided to come back. (He never did listen when the people who lived there five years ago talked about an elderly couple with five adult children. Nor did he notice how twitchy people there were.) Dumbledore knew that Harry would listen to him, see reason. After all, everyone knew that Harry was Dumbledore's protege. (He ignored the wary looks his old friends gave him every time he said that, ignored his faculty as they brought up the fact that they had never really met.) After all, Dumbledore knew Harry's parents, and thus Harry, and he had felt such a kinship with the young man. He wouldn't feel such a kinship unless it was reciprocal.

And so Dumbledore strolled casually down the road to Hell, to his death, to the end of the magical world as he knew it. He really shouldn't have put such high moral expectations on an abused child.

Harry had learned to control his magic at five. By six, he essentially ruled his blood family. In school, he was the top bully. He tortured animals, to see how much pain they could take. His earliest memories had always been pain. Pain and hunger.

Harry had learned that to take a cat from Mrs. Figg would get him noticed, and that she gradually became colder and colder to him, although he could smell her fear. He learned to avoid notice, to manipulate events so that he never hurt again. He started a small war between neighbors in Privet drive, caused chaos at his school. He was looking forward to high school and chemicals and power, when he discovered a whole new world.

A world of magic. At first annoyed, he quickly realized that everyone was an idiot. The laws were outdated, knowledge was feared. But then he learned reverence. Crucio, a curse that tortured all nerve endings, dementors who stole all your happy memories, a monster that could become your worst nightmare. Yes, the wizarding world was stupid and behind the times, but they were creative in their cruelty, and Harry was the master of cruelty. His uncle and cousin were skin and bones, his aunt never willing to speak aloud to anyone. Anyone who hurt Harry received pain threefold to what Harry was given.

It was a shame that there was a limit. Bonds placed on what could and couldn't be learned. All these tools to be used, and no one allowed to legally use them. Harry always was curious, and never wanted to be at the mercy of others, to depend on others. He would be strong, people would fall before him.

First year, he heard everyone talk behind his back about his eyes. He would smile, plotting on how to destroy the gossipers as an exercise for his... extracurricular activity. He researched this world that claimed him a savior and then pushed him out of sight. The world that sent him to live with his uncle and aunt and cousin. He had saved them, and they had sacrificed him. As far as Harry was concerned, that ended whatever obligation to the world. He was careful to make no enemies, although was unfortunate enough to accidentally show his power to Hermione. But by that point rumors went around about how Dumbledore wouldn't hear a word against Harry, and Hermione was not a part of this world for long enough that anyone would back her up.

Second year he was back, ready. He had done his research on his classmates, on the past war, had used his newly discovered philospher's stone to help him pay for his research. He learned their pasts, their histories, their weak spots. And he used them. It was exactly what Neville needed to hear, that Bellatrix and the others who were responsible for the condition of his parents should be used to try and save his parents. Why shouldn't the Cruciatus be used on those who committed a deadly crime? Why were researchers not allowed to use the curse to find a cure. After all, that's how vaccines were made. Take a little bit of the illness, and figure out how to stop Draco, well, did he really want to be like his weak father? A man who never learned to throw off an Imperious. Harry had showed him what it was like, and after a month, Draco could throw it off. And following Voldemort? Did he have no self respect? Did he not want to change the world and be treated as an equal? To not sit at the feet of others, waiting for praise like a dog? Others listened, came over to his side. He talked to Tom Riddle, a diary. He discovered it, analyzed it. Dark magic, and it had questions to answers Harry didn't even know he wanted to ask. He found the chamber, discovered some books, and a giant snake, and smiled. He'd keep Tom around until he was no longer useful. Shame that Crabbe and Goyle had outlived their usefulness this year. Lockheart had never been useful.

His third year he came ready. Ready to start something that had been half forming in his mind for the past two years. He volunteered his services as a Ravenclaw to those younger in other houses, helping them study and tutoring them when they needed it. He ignored the old man (who had never done anything, so why did he expect something now? You get what you've been given, no more. No less) who kept telling stories of these abstract people who had donated genetic material to create him, and then died. And he felt vicious victory as he allowed the basilisk to hunt in the Forbidden Forest, to kill the friend of person who physically brought him to the place of abuse. He never liked spiders anyway.

Harry's fourth year saw him become the young Lord Black. Lucius was trying to claim it on behalf of Draco, but Harry had learned about the Black family. Enough to know that Draco would not do well as the head of Malfoy and Black. He outwitted Lucius Malfoy, blocked him from accessing the Black family gold. The fact that he claimed the vaults of Bellatrix Lestrange, as the head of the House has the power to do. He got a little cup. Small, but oh-so important to his continued life.

Fifth year had some interesting things happened. He met and killed the witch who tried to have him assassinated, who refused to teach magic, who was withholding his birthright. He buried his relatives in the yard. Harry had no patience for useless people. And he listened to the portraits talk when they thought he was gone, learned of Dumbledore and his beliefs and refusals to see Harry's true self. Minister Fudge would never make that mistake again. Especially not when he opened the small box sent to him on Valentine's Day. Harry would never be upset about not being the prefect, because he was far too busy.

Sixth year was no time for play. Harry buckled down with his web of comrades, equals. Each had their own agenda they worked to, but helped with overlapping projects. Draco needed Lord Black, not only to expedite his ascension to the Head of Malfoy but for the plans he was beginning to form like a true Slytherin. Harry offered the same deal to many others, and every so often made sure that they were taken care of. He knew these people would be on his side, in debt to him. He would collect. As for the Muggleborn, wouldn't magic make the world you left so much better? Who would unite the worlds? He laughed as news reached his ears from one of his snake friends assigned to follow Dumbledore during the day in the Chamber. Dumbledore had no idea who he was dealing with.

Seventh year was perfect. He was Head Boy with unlimited access to the restriction section. He heard the teachers talk of how Dumbledore would hear of no one else for the position. He supported Draco with a few of his bills, in return for the same at a later point. There was a point when Dumbledore gave him a few odd stares, but after a month that stopped. Harry was working on his masterpiece, how he would leave a mark on his world. He spoke to people of corruption in the ministry, the futility of the houses (after all, Harry was more snake than most Slytherins), and how a certain old man could rewrite history and events to spin them the way he wanted to. Dumbledore still believed Harry could do no wrong. Harry became an Unspeakable during the year, having applied the minute he turned seventeen. His first project? The diary, cup, silver locket. He researched when he should have been studying, but still was decently placed, even if he was only better than Hermione by a few points. By the time graduation rolled around, Harry had developed the first ever successful ritual to find and destroy all parts of a soul destroyed by horcruxes. His acquaintances were placed where they wanted, and where they could help him with his agenda.

Five years after graduation, Harry received an owl he'd be waiting for. By now, he had friends in high places, and had heard of Dumbledore poking into the ministry and (dictate) strongly request that nothing change, that everything would be magically fixed. Dumbledore had been claiming Harry was his protege, causing Harry's loose circle of friends to laugh. After all, Harry had only talked to him in first year and seventh year. But Dumbledore had decided Harry was his proxy, that Harry had sway with the people on the Wizengamot. He was right about sway, but Harry would not use his sway for Dumbledore. He would, however, push forward with his agenda. An agenda he had developed while locked in a cupboard under the stairs: Kill those who placed me here.

Oh yes. Dumbledore had dug his own grave and was walking right into it. And really, that was all Harry cared about.


End file.
